Eyes on Fire
by simpleruse
Summary: Takes place during "Hat Trick" but Mary Margaret was not abducted, so therefore not in the house. Emma was driving to the scene of the crime when she hit Jefferson. Also Alice is not Grace's mother. After the failed attempt of escape, Emma has to answer to Jefferson, and the consequences. 1/?
1. Failed attempts

Hands bound.

Heart racing.

Breathing shallow.

Emma's eyes were fixed on the psychotic stranger in front of her, never once tearing her fearful watch of him away, his eyes hypnotically holding hers captive as he paces back and forth in front of her. Jefferson's eyes were set with deadly intent on hers, not once breaking his hold of hers as he continues his slow, predatory pace. His eyes were on fire…with rage, betrayal, madness and confusion displayed openly, staring at the reason behind his mood and his only hope for being reunited with his daughter. Grace was his only reason for contemplating the hideous thoughts now racing in his mind, any means was necessary, even if those means included using Emma with what ever it took to get him back home.

Stopping right in front of Emma, his eyes slowly took in the sight of her bound and helpless before him. The sight sparking satisfaction and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

She had betrayed his momentary trust. She was the reason he had raised his hopes, felt something more than pain and loneliness that had kept him trapped in this house for twenty-eight years. Placing his hands on each knee, he moved forward, his face only a hairsbreadth away from hers as he became eye level. Underneath his hands he could feel her tremble, her face however, was trying to mask the fear and uncertainty he knew she was feeling. _It served her right_. "You're a pretty good actress. You had me fooled, making me think that you'd finally begun to accept the obvious truth… The truth that is staring right in front of your face." His voice dropped down a decibel, his voice sounding deeper, threatening.

Emma's only response was to swallow; fearing that whatever response she gave to him would only make matters worse. Her hands were bound too tight for her to even think about escaping again. She was still unsure of what the consequences to her actions were going to be. She knew he wouldn't kill her; he needed her, he had made that abundantly clear. Thinking back now, she could almost kick herself for missing the opportunity to escape this mad house. She had almost escaped, almost. If it hadn't have been for that front door being locked and Jefferson catching up to her, she could have been halfway to the police station for back up by now. But she wasn't. Emma still couldn't figure out how Jefferson had been able to get up so quickly after being hit over the head, and with his own telescope she might add. How was he not unconscious on the ground instead of invading her personal space right now? She could already make out the bruise forming on his right eye, the hint of his skin turning a deep blackish purple, the only evidence that she had hit him and, had put a great deal of force behind that swing. Deciding to take a leap of faith and to show him that she wasn't going to be bullied or be pushed around by this delusional wannabe Mad Hatter, she replied, "How did you get up so quickly?"

Jefferson had been so lost in thought that when she didn't reply right away, he began thinking about how he was going use Emma to get his hat to work. He was certain she was the key to his dilemma. It was her magic that had made the clock begin ticking again, she possessed magic even if she wasn't willing to admit it to herself. That was the problem; she didn't believe in magic or anything he tried to tell her otherwise, she didn't even believe her own son. He needed to come up with a plan to make her believe if he had any hope of returning back home and breaking the curse. But when she spoke, it startled him from his train of thought. Furrowing his brow in confusion for a second, he replayed her words in his head, a smile began to creep onto his lips, turning wider and wider with her words reminding him of something.

The smile sent shivers down Emma's spine, making her unsure of the reason behind it, remembering back to earlier when he had drugged her and exposed himself as someone not to be trusted. "Maybe if you listened" he tapped her ear, amused at her scowl, "you'd know why." Straightening up, he leans back on the work table behind him, folding his arms, completely amused by Emma's reaction, trying to figure out the meaning to what he'd said was. "And what does that mean?"

Moving away from the desk, Jefferson slowly walks around to the back of her chair, leaning in; he pauses for a moment, breathing into her ear, letting her know exactly where and what he was doing, keeping her in suspense until he whispers, "You'll see soon enough."

Letting out the breath she hadn't noticed she took when he whispered into her ear, Emma tried to keep her raging emotions under check. He was trying to get to her, to rile her up and keep her in suspense to whatever fucked up mind games he was using on her. Well she wasn't going to play. This was probably how he got his kicks; well he'll have a hard time with her she promised. "So what am I supposed to be doing in the mean time?" His chuckle throws her, not expecting it but then again nothing this guy does fits into her expectations. "Still trying to show a brave face, c'mon Emma, you don't need to fool me. I know you much better then the people around here think they do." He circles back to his seat, leaning back into it with a knowing smirk, turning her insides. "Cause you've been spying on me, I doubt that makes you an expert on me." She's quick to counter point, refusing to believe his ridiculous statement.

"That's where you're mistaken Miss Swan. I see every thing, the things you try to hide, I see what you do alone at night when there's no one around to see." His smirk intensifies at her blush, her eyes darting away trying to keep her composure but failing miserably. His words continue on, despite how much she tries not to listen to them, "I know how you curl up in bed at night and cry; you're lonely… just like me." He pauses, she looks back to see the sorrow and pain in eyes, hypnotically she's drawn in, and her eyes refuse to look away. Just like before when he told her about Grace, she felt her heart pull in acknowledgement, believing in his statement, the situation disappearing momentarily as he allows himself for a brief moment to let her in.

"That's how I know." And with those four words he shut himself off from her. His tone was cold but confident, speaking the truth to her, as his words echoed on in her mind.

She wants to say something back, to get him where it hurts, to deny it, deny the possibility that they had anything in common, but the words die in her throat. She knows it deep down and that's what unsettles her the most. The violation of her privacy is still coursing through her veins, this psycho knows nothing of the depths of his own depravity, and he doesn't seem to care. It didn't matter to him to feel ashamed for openly admitting the truth about watching her, at the same time, Emma couldn't ascertain why she felt weirdly connected and comforted by this.

* * *

Hours passed by sluggishly as Emma made hat after hat, each one being inspected, scrutinized and declined by Jefferson, his anger and frustration growing all the more once he discovered that none of them would 'work'. As morning slowly approached Emma felt her lids growing heavier, exhaustion was taking over due to the repetitiveness of her task. She needed sleep. Not wanting to provoke the mad man in front of her she kept her thoughts to herself, tried to push on through the veil of sleepiness washing over her, she could only hope that he would take pity on her and let her sleep, or better yet, let her go home.

Finishing hat number... she lost count, did it matter? After making one the rest all seemed ridiculous to her in the whole grand scheme of things. Before tonight she had never made a hat, she never wanted to or knew how, not until Jefferson showed her. He welcomely invaded her personal space, a habit she had noticed earlier, it made her feel uncomfortable but something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. His hands on hers, going through step by step until she got the hang of things, thankful when he wasn't touching her anymore, she could think and despise him more clearly when he wasn't near her, touching her. Looking up expectantly to Jefferson, she was surprised to see him still sitting there staring at her, she couldn't read his expression, he was dead pan and distant. She was unsure what to do, should she say something? The silence was becoming unbearable as seconds ticked by and the awkwardness of the situation made Emma shift restlessly in her seat.

He finally moves, the relief swells through her but only for a second. Emma watches him carefully as he stands up and moves around the table to stand beside her. Grabbing her arm, but being careful not to grip too tightly that she might bruise, he pulls her up from her seat and escorts her out of the room. Fear sets in immediately, the blood draining from her face as she asks as evenly as she could, "where are you taking me?" Her reply is silence. Jefferson doesn't even look at her or blink in acknowledgement that he heard her. She follows along knowing it's pointless to struggle or run, knowing full well that he had **her** gun and could either shoot her, or just catch her again. They walked down hallways which lead into more, the realization of how big this place was, like a maze, made Emma feel small and out of her depth. Where was he taking her? Was he going to chain and lock her up in a dungeon, because this place does scream hidden basement dungeons, or was there somewhere equally as bad? God she hoped not.

They finally reached their destination, Jefferson none to gently, throwing her into what appeared to be a bedroom. Looking at the bed and back to him, eyes widening, her mind screaming he's going to rape you! Jefferson closes the door behind him, leans back and gestures to the bed.

"If you think-"

"I don't think" he cuts her off, taking her gun from his back pocket, folding his arms as he studies her. His expression still infuriatingly unreadable, he continues before Emma can reply, "You're tired, you need to sleep. Now lay down on the bed or I'll make you." Emma studies him for a moment, not sure whether to believe that he just wants her to sleep or if he has something else up his sleeve. Knowing it's pointless, Emma lies down, eyes never leaving Jefferson as she watches him move to the bed, holstering the gun in his back pocket, her body tensing, readying to fight him if he tries anything. He moves towards the bedside table and rummages through a draw, producing something metallic and shiny. Confusion washes over her face for a split second before she see's the object more clearly. Why does he have handcuffs? Why was she even thinking about why he has handcuffs? Clearly this psycho would have something like this!

"Lift your left hand up above your head." Slowly she raises her hand toward the bedpost, unfortunately for her, their metal too, no hope of breaking out. The metal slips around her wrists making her flinch, the cool metal circling her heated skin. Jefferson is close now; watching her as he's cuffs her, a tiny smile showing on his lips infuriating her, he was clearly enjoying this! "Sweet dreams; let's hope for your sake it's just that you're exhausted that my hat isn't working." His voice is low and guttural, it's more like a growl, the threat only adds to the mounting fear and dread growing in the pit of her stomach. With one lingering look, he turns and leaves, Emma lies there helpless and utterly bewildered by the situation she's in.


	2. A New Plan

A/N: Sorry for the wait, took much longer then I expected! I have a new beta (yay), which means it wont look like a jumbled mess anymore. Thank you Lindsay you are a life safer ;)

Please leave any feedback below. Suggestions of progression of plot etc... I'm trying to be as realistic as possible and will eventually get to the smut. Please be patient!

* * *

The dawn came and went, hours ticking by sluggishly. Emma fell asleep within a matter of minutes after Jefferson left the room, exhaustion from being up a solid twenty four hours finally taking its toll. As for Jefferson, in the hours since, he had tried to figure out why Emma was unable to make any of the hats work. He knew she possessed magic; he had seen it the night she returned to Storybrooke. Yet she hadn't believed in magic then - so what was the trigger?

For months Jefferson had watched from his window Emma go about her daily life. Watching for any sign of something that would help him return home, even break the spell if needs be, but after months of nothing Jefferson had decided he needed to take action. He was second guessing himself now. Staring at the bedroom door, he felt sorry for what he had put her through tonight.

Being careful not to wake her, Jefferson opened and shut the door behind him slowly as he walked over to the bed. He stood watching her. Time was irrelevant as he watched her, noticing she must be having a bad dream. Taking her boots off, he pulled the cover over her sleeping form, frowning when he noticed the handcuffs digging into her skin. Retrieving the key from his back pocket, he lets her hand free, depositing the handcuffs back into the bed side table where he had them stored earlier. The handcuffs weren't even his. In fact they were Emma's.

While she was passed out earlier that evening, Jefferson had gone to hide her car. That's where he had found the set in her glove box. Expecting they might come in use he took them, along with her phone to intercept any phone calls.

Looking around his bedroom, Jefferson didn't over analyze the reason why he had put Emma in his room. It wasn't like he didn't have another room she could have slept in; he had eight bedrooms in total. Although the sight of her in his bed made him feel comforted. It had been so long since he had anyone sleep in his bed, not since Grace's mother…

Tucking a stray strand of hair off of Emma's face, Jefferson gently stroked her cheek. It felt nice; her skin was soft just like he imagined it would be. His heart tugged in longing. He had been alone for so long… having her here made him feel the slightest hint of happiness.

Instead of leaving the room, he continued to watch her. He eventually sat down, eyes never leaving her sleeping form. Thoughts of Grace and what to do came and went, waiting patiently for Emma to wake as an old memory clouded his mind. Something about this particular memory of Emma, an epiphany, a plan worked out.

Jefferson later rationalized his actions from the lack of sleep he had from the past twenty eight years. Insomnia. Another curse bestowed to him by the Queen. Now that he had a plan he didn't have to worry himself about his feelings, whatever they were for Emma.

* * *

Emma woke to the sight of Jefferson lounging comfortably in a chair across from her, nursing a glass of what she assumed was some sort of alcoholic beverage. Jefferson's expression was one of contemplation. Emma guessed that he must have been here all night, as he was still in the same clothes and she could just make out the stubble on his face, proving her theory.

"You've been watching me this whole time?" Emma inquired, mortified.

"Not all night" Jefferson admitted, making Emma blush. This was creepy, borderline stalker and psychotic. This wasn't helping his case for trying to be normal. In movies and TV shows it seemed nice, romantic even. It was a cliché in recent years and Emma had never given it much thought, not that she was ever into chick flicks. But given her current situation it was anything but romantic. Why was he watching her? Emma awkwardly started shifting her body to sit up on the bed, not wanting to look anymore weak and defenceless then she appeared. Emma only now aware that her wrist wasn't bound to the bedpost anymore, her confused look catching Jefferson's unwavering attention.

Reading her mind, Jefferson interrupted her observation "I took the handcuffs off shortly after you went to sleep."

"After you insisted I have them on?" She scoffed at the recollection of last night.

Jefferson smiled, making Emma clench her jaw. "A guy is allowed to change his mind you know." Emma doesn't miss the distinct flirtatious hint to his voice. It was annoying her.

"It doesn't matter either way; I'm still your prisoner even if you have me chained up or not." Emma was through playing the helpless hostage; she couldn't sit around and take this anymore. Jefferson wasn't going to let her go, if ever. The realization kicked something primal in her to try and take a hold of this situation, Jefferson's mood didn't change. In fact his smile grew wider.

"I'm glad we agree. It makes things so much easier and less painful for you when you come around to the idea. In fact…"

Putting his glass on the table beside him, Jefferson got up closing the distance between them. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he turned his body to face her, one leg resting on the bed for support. Emma's body immediately tensed when his leg brushed against hers, invading her space, knowing it and enjoying it while Emma silently suffered. She tried in vain to reign in her rampant emotions, wanting to either push him away or slap him.

Licking his lips, Jefferson leaned closer to Emma's face. He stopped only a hairsbreadth away from her lips, his eyes penetrating hers, never leaving them as he listened to the intake of breath from Emma. Seconds passed, achingly slow as Emma was determined to win this game of his. Jefferson was trying to intimidate her, enjoying every little reaction she was unaware of giving him.

Jefferson broke the tension filled silence with a husky whisper, finishing his previous statement. "I've come up with a new way to get the magic out of you." Emma unwillingly gulped, fear growing in the pit of her belly.

"Is it that you want me to make you tea instead?" Her eyebrows rose in question as she diverted the topic away from his 'new way.' Emma wasn't sure if she really wanted to know after all.

Jefferson's head pulled back in surprise to her quip. Instead of looking angry he looks… elated. And sure enough that annoying smirk of his, the one that keeps getting under her skin, greeted her frustrated frown.

"Well, well, well. Miss Swan, it seems that nap of yours did wonders on you." He almost sounded like Mr. Gold. Only Regina and Gold ever called her by her last name. Go figures the people she hates most and she could definitely add Jefferson to that list.

"How about you just cut to the chase, Jefferson." She put emphasis on his name, making it sound more like a curse word then his name. "I am not here for your amusement or whatever delusion you have stuck in that head of yours. You need help and I am not the one to help –"his hand covered her mouth, silences her. Emma's eyes widened in alarm, and tried to pry his fingers from her mouth without success.

"Save it. Believe me when I tell you Emma, I know that I am mad." Making sure to keep his hand firmly pressed against her lips, Jefferson shifted his body so he was now straddling Emma. "You have no idea, so don't sit there and presume to tell me what I already know." Gone was his playful tone. His words were cold, menacing. Just like his eyes. His free hand pinned down one of her arms to stop her moving, his legs making sure that she couldn't kick in defence. He was too strong for her to buck him up off of her, so she relaxed her muscles, waiting for the right opportunity to kick him, to do any kind of bodily harm to him.

"This wasn't how I wanted it to be" he sighed, resting his forehead against hers. He could sense her confusion and panic, and he was torn by the feelings she was bringing out in him. He was enjoying her struggle, he could feel his arousal. The rational side of his brain was disgusted, he didn't want to hurt Emma but she was leaving him no other choice. The darker side of him, the madness, the Mad Hatter wanted to take her right there and then. Move on with his plan quickly. It had been years, years he didn't even notice until **she** came into town.

Leaning back, Jefferson took his hands off of both her lips and hand, and Emma automatically used both hands to push him off of her but to no avail.

"Get-off-of-me" she grit out between clenched teeth. The more she moved against him, the more she felt something hard press against her stomach. Oh god, he's aroused by this. This only led her to flail around more, desperately trying to get out from underneath him, afraid that he was going to force himself on her.

No he mouthed to her when she risked a peak, shaking his head making her push him all the more. Grabbing her wrists he brought them to his lips, gently brushing her knuckles against them, causing her to stop squirming. He smiled in approval. "Are you going to play nice?"

Why was her body betraying her? Why did that one touch of his lips on her skin cause a fire in her body? It was too much, the weight of him on top of her, feeling his very hard and what she could only guess, a very large erection. Add his lips to the mix and she was bound to get excited. She was human after all, even if her body had been in a state of numbness since Graham.

"Does it look like I have a choice?" Breathless from her exertions she replied, feigning defeat.

"Better get used to it." With ease, Jefferson swung his leg back over so that he's standing beside the bed. Emma doesn't move but is grateful for not having his erection pressing against her anymore. Unfortunately, she is now eye level with it.

"Now, what would you like to eat?" His head tilted to the side, studying her with an eager smile.

Surprised and confused by this sudden change in topic, she eyed him distrustfully, "What?"


	3. Threats

Editors Notes: I am so incredibly sorry for the long wait! I promise more timely chapters from now on! This chapter is slow, I do apologize, but it does gets some things across. I promise I lot more from chapter 4. Just think of this as a way to re-immerse ourselves back into the story ;) Mostly for me to get Jefferson's head space right hahaha. Reviews are 3 Thank you for being so patient dearies.

* * *

Smirking at her reaction, just the response he was hoping to stir from her, Jefferson offers his hand while waiting patiently for Emma to take it. "You must be hungry. I'd be a terrible host if I didn't feed you, now wouldn't I?"

Emma blushes once he explains himself. Her dirty mind getting the better of her, she tries as humanly possible, not to look directly in front of her. "How about you let me go instead?" Her hopeful eyes peer up at him, wishing to appeal to a saner side of the man before her.

"Not a chance," Jefferson smirks, clearly enjoying the exchange.

Emma doesn't move.

Jefferson however, insistently keeps his hand outstretched. Emma keeps her eyes on his without moving.

"I'm not going to harm you Emma… unless you make me." His tone drops an octave or two, Emma shudders in response. "Now just take it." He sounds tired, almost pleading if she could dare believe it with her own ears.

Begrudgingly taking his offered hand, Emma slowly gets out of bed, realizing once her feet touches the floor that she isn't wearing her boots anymore. Spotting them at the foot of the bed, she concludes that Jefferson had taken them off while she was sleeping. This only made Emma question what else Jefferson took the liberty of doing while she was passed out. Forcing back unwelcome images, Emma follows Jefferson out of the bedroom, his hand resting on her back, leading her throughout his home to their destination - the kitchen.

The kitchen is huge, not that she was expecting anything less. Everything looked state of the art and contemporary, fitting the image of a reclusive rich guy. Leading her to the isle in the centre of the room, Jefferson gestures to one of the stools. Taking the offered seat, Emma discreetly scans the nearby area for any possible weapons. As she searches, she forgets to keep a close eye on her 'host', allowing him to come up from behind her and rest his hands on her shoulders. She immediately tenses, cursing, for being caught off guard.

"Hmm I bet you're a pancake and eggs kinda girl, over-easy right?"

Oh course he was right, he had been watching her for god knows how long. She hated to think what he had seen, what he knew. She tries to stay calm, trying not to give anything away as Jefferson chuckles in her ear.

"When was the last time someone cooked you breakfast?" He whispers, moving from behind her to grab something out of a nearby drawer. She eyes him, knowing he knows, "You know who."

"But she doesn't count does she?"

"Why not?" She asks, genuinely curious and confused by his answer.

"Mary-Margaret tries and tries, but you never eat it am I right?" He pauses, before answering the question for her, "of course I am."

"That's none of your business. Besides, you can't have seen all of that from your telescope?"

Jefferson stops what he's doing to turn to look at her. "Avoiding the question are we?"

"You're avoiding too." Emma snaps back, sighing at her childish response.

"I do leave this house on occasion…" He turns to rummage through another drawer.

"Could've fooled me, I've never seen you around town." Emma crosses her arms, leaning back to scan a nearby door that could lead to freedom. But she couldn't tell if the door was locked or not. It was going to be a risk, that's for sure.

Jefferson looks back up; closing the drawer while placing his hands, with the object to rest behind his back on the side counter. Leaning back, he watches Emma as she quickly sits up right, failing in her not so stealthy recognisance.

"I don't like being around other people…even if they can't remember who I am." He looks off in to the distance, lost in thought before he whispers, "I couldn't bear it if Grace ever saw me like this." Emma's shocked by his honesty. She's unsure on how to react to this new piece of information about him and the feelings that have stirred in response. Grace is not his, she repeats over in her head like a mantra, hoping that she wasn't falling for the delusion, no matter how real it seemed to be to him.

"Now, its you're turn."

He came back up behind her again, something hidden behind his back, Emma senses something amiss, she quickly spins on her seat while pushing Jefferson away, jumping off the stool as she backs away from him.

"I'm ending this now." She vows, keeping a close eye on Jefferson while scanning the immediate area for anything to aid in her attempt to escape. "You've had your sick fun, now its time for you to let me go or else I'll find a way." Afraid of what's going to come next, Emma knows she needs to distract him for as long as possible. There was no way she was going to sit there and let him tie her up again.

Jefferson doesn't move. His lips curl into an evil sneer, his eyes looking a couple shades darker then before. Emma gulps in fear, not knowing what this mad man was capable of doing, or what he was currently thinking. "You think after all this time I'm just going to let you walk out?" Placing the rope on the isle beside him, he produces a gun from his back pocket. Instead of aiming it at her, he slowly rubs it along his jaw line, resting the tip of it against his head.

"Listen Jefferson, I know you're a good person, you don't want to do this." Emma tries to reason, knowing it's pointless but she has to try. Jefferson chuckles darkly in response, his eyes widen; his expression one of madness. "You know nothing about me. So stop presuming and listen…"

He walks slowly towards her; deliberate steps, like an animal stalking its prey. Emma, in turn, walks backwards, mirroring each step he takes towards her until her back hits against the wall, trapping her. "It's up to me when you leave, not you. Once you come to your senses, and think beyond the limited capacity you possess, then… and only then Emma…"

He stops, right in front of her. He places his hands on each side of her head, trapping her, the gun still held in his hand with a tight grip.

"….will I let you go."


End file.
